


Migraines and Embraces

by Queerbutstillhere



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Clark Kent, Hurt Bruce Wayne, M/M, POV Clark Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerbutstillhere/pseuds/Queerbutstillhere
Summary: Bruce gets a Migraine while out with Clark, while Clark gets something worse.... Feelings.TW: school shootings, suicide.





	Migraines and Embraces

"Hold on, big guy," Clark murmured, floating up a little higher to get over the taller buildings. 

Bruce was currently in his arms, one arm around Clark's neck, his other hand over his eyes. He was awake, but very much not willing to do anything. Clark kept flying until he reached the fire escape of his apartment, he dropped down on the metal grates, jostling Bruce, or rather Batman, so he could hold the man with one arm and balancing him with his knee so he could reach out and slide the window open.

He let Bruce slip through the window on his own, following and then closing the window. He turned to Bruce, who was standing in the living room, hand still over his eyes, feeling for the sofa. Clark walked over to him, gently guiding him to sit on the sofa.

"What do you want me to do, Bruce?"

"Can you help me get out of this?" Bruce asked, touching his chest and the bat symbol there. 

Clark nodded, going and closing all the blinds before walking over to Bruce, barely able to see the man in the dark apartment. Bruce finally uncovered his eyes, squinting at Clark, he pulled off his cowl and stiffly started undoing the armor.

"Here, let me," Clark said gently, kneeling in front of his friend, running his fingers along the edge of the armor, finding all the little clasps and undoing them.

He helped Bruce pull off the armor, followed by his gloves and belts. He went and found a pair of sweatpants, helping support Bruce while he put those on. Bruce kept his eyes closed almost the whole time. The whole situation would've made Clark a lot more uncomfortable if it wasn't for his concern about Bruce, who was now sat on his sofa, shirtless.

"Clark?"

"Right here."

"Can you get me something to put over my eyes?"

"Yeah."

Clark walked away from the kitchen, he had been finding food, and into his bedroom, looking in his closet to find the thickest tie he owned. He walked back out, gently tying it around Bruce's eyes to form a blindfold. Bruce almost immediately relaxed, letting his hand drop from his eyes.

"God, Bruce, will you tell me what is going on?" Clark asked, still in the dark about what was causing the Dark Knight to act this way.

"It's just a migraine, Clark, I get them from time to time."

"It can't "just be a migraine", you can barely walk!"

"I'm fine."

Clark scoffed, staring at the man. They had been out investigating a drug ring that was shipping drugs between Metropolis, Gotham and Bludhaven when Clark starting noticing something was wrong. Bruce was acting different, he couldn't quite figure it out, but after 20 more minutes, when Bruce had leaned against a pole, rubbing his temples, he knew. It took him another 20 minutes to convince Bruce to stop for the night, and from there the migraine got worse, Clark didn't want to take Bruce all the way back to Gotham, so they just flew to his apartment so hopefully Bruce could sleep it off.

"What do you need? Pain meds, food, something to drink?"

"I'd love some migraine relief, and some chamomile tea," Bruce said sleepily.

"Okay, let me run to the store real quick, do you want me to turn the tv on?"

At Bruce's nod, Clark grabbed the remote, turning the tv to some late night news station, showing Bruce which button was the channel button and then darting into his room to speed change out of his Superman suit. He grabbed his keys and wallet, and left quickly, dashing to the nearest 24 supermarket. He got Bruce some migraine medicine, some with caffeine and some without, and made his way to the tea aisle, picking up a few other things on his way, like coffee and bread. He was only gone about twenty minutes, and when he got back to his apartment, Bruce hadn't moved.

He gave Bruce the medicine and then made him the tea, putting it in a thermos so the man wouldn't spill it if he accidentally knocked it over. Clark finished his late night snack before going out to take a shower, coming back to find Bruce still in the same location, listening to the tv. Clark sat down beside him, pulling out his phone and looking at it, content to stay up with Bruce for a while longer. Bruce, now aware of Clark's presence beside him, and for some reason comforted by it, slouched a little more in his seat, his knee bumping into Clark's, and then staying there. Neither man moved.

The longer they sat there, Bruce's headache, while still persistent, dulled slightly. He shifted around a few more times before finding himself leaning against Clark, hand holding onto the other man's. It was strangely very comfortable. He had turned the TV to some talk show a while ago, and listened to the host talk to some actor about something that had happened on Twitter. Clark laughed slightly at something Bruce couldn't see, and Bruce could feel it through the man.

Bruce's mind was faintly wondering why on Earth he was so comfortable with, even craving the physical contact, with Clark nonetheless, but he ignored it, too in pain to question it. He just found himself pulling his knees up to his chest, further curled up against Clark. Clark himself, had been rather shocked when Bruce had leaned on him, but assumed it was just the pain causing him to do so, but when the man had slipped his hand into Clark's, he couldn't help but stare for a few minutes.

Sure, Clark had always had an attraction to Bruce. Bruce Wayne himself was undeniably attractive, and despite the media portrayal of being a playboy, he had always seemed to like Clark. And Batman, well, despite their fighting and the mistrust that had taken years to get past, he had always been there for Superman, and Clark, and had recently been going to great lengths to help the man. He decided he would just chalk the whole thing up to Bruce's migraine and not let himself read to much into it. Because that would be a dangerous road to go down.

But as Bruce's head dropped onto his shoulder, the man finally beginning to doze off, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering, looking down at Bruce's hand clasped tightly around his own. Did Bruce feel anything for Clark? The man was nearly impossible to read so Clark had absolutely no idea, he shut off his emotions, and something told Clark that even if Bruce did, he didn't even know it himself. He swallowed, his mind jumping to thinking about what Bruce's lips would feel like, and how it would feel to have Bruce's hands on his body.

"Fuck," Clark breathed out, mentally berating himself.

Bruce muttered in his dozing state, his head falling off Clark's shoulder. Clark sighed and pulled his hand out of Bruce's, adjusting and slipping his arms under Bruce's legs and behind his back, carefully picking the man up again, walking towards his bedroom with the intention to lay Bruce down and go crash on the couch. Bruce would need some decent sleep to recover from the migraine. 

Bruce, having woken up when Clark picked him up, put his arms around Clark's neck, eyes still closed, breathing in the smell of Clark's shampoo. It smelled good. Clark gently laid him down on the bed, pulling his arms out from Bruce, staying bent over, as Bruce hadn't yet let go. He could feel Clark's breath on his skin, clueing him in to just how close the man was. He felt fingers brushing against his forehead, and then pushing his hair back.

"Go to sleep, Bruce, you need to rest," Clark murmured, pulling against Bruce's arms.

Bruce, still in pain, just tightened them, not letting go of the man, who had to put a hand down on the bed to keep himself from falling on Bruce.

"You're gonna sleep on the sofa?"

"Yeah, it's not like I have a spare bedroom."

Bruce was aware of this, he was also aware he was in Clark's bed, even without the knowledge the man had a one bedroom apartment. It smelled like him, which wasn't bad, Bruce was actually finding comfort in it. For some reason.

"Stay?" The word came out of his mouth without his permission. 

Clark's stammering was enough to tell Bruce he was surprised, but Bruce didn't take it back, it was too late and he was realizing it was what he wanted anyway so there was no reason to. He just wanted to not be in pain, the piercing, almost stinging pain in his skull crying for his attention. He also didn't want Clark to leave, he had felt more comfortable leaning on the man, almost as if the migraine had dulled in Clark's presence. Or that could be the medicine kicking in. He pushed that thought away, waiting for Clark's response, the sound of his breathing and Bruce's arms around his neck the only reason Bruce knew he was still there, his world still pitch black.

"Are you sure?" The words were whispered, barely spoken with enough force that Bruce could hear them.

"Yes."

There was another long pause as Bruce waited for Clark's response.

"Okay." 

Bruce felt himself smile slightly, releasing his grip on Clark. He followed the man with his head, listening as he closed all the blinds before getting into the bed next to Bruce. A minute passed, then two. And without speaking, they both moved closer, Clark's arms going around Bruce, Bruce's hands grabbing onto Clark's shirt near his abdomen, forehead against Clark's chest. It only took a few minutes until their legs were tangled up together. There was only a hint of awkwardness as it took them a moment to get comfortable, Bruce felt Clark's chin against the top of his head, he let out a sigh, telling his body to sleep and slowly slipping away, eyes still closed.

Clark was in a bit of a state of shock. The fact that Bruce had wanted him to stay, to share the bed, had on its own been surprising. But here he was now, cuddling the Dark Knight. Holding him in his arms, Bruce clinging onto him like he could protect the man from his migraine. If anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he would be cuddling Bruce Wayne that evening, he would've sent them to Arkham for being insane. But yet…..

Clark wasn't uncomfortable by any means, Bruce, while being very ripped, somehow fit perfectly against him, their legs tangled together, his chin on Bruce's head. The whole position was one you'd expect from lovers, not from… well… Batman and Superman. Clark could tell almost instantly the moment Bruce slipped into sleep. The man relaxed his grip on Clark's shirt, relaxed his muscles, almost deflating a bit as he took soft shallow breaths. Clark could feel his breath, even through his shirt, and Jesus if he made it through the night in one piece he really would be the Man of Steel. He scoffed to himself slightly at the joke, pulling back to press a kiss to Bruce's head before returning to his position, allowing himself to go to sleep finally.

…

_Hands tugging on his hair, pulling him closer. Passionate kisses that were far too short and sloppy, teeth biting at his lips, teasing him. Bodies pressed together, the other person grinding against him, moaned gasps of his name. Nails raking down the other's back, receiving a gasp and a nip on the neck. Clark let his head tilt back, and the nip turned into lips, sucking and kissing, trailing down his neck towards his chest, the hands leaving his hair and going down to his far too tight pants, going inside and feeling him. Clark moaned, his eyes going shut._

_"God, Bruce," Clark moaned out, his hands going up to the man's short hair._

_Bruce said something but Clark didn't catch it, his senses filled with Bruce, who was now kissing him again, starting to pull his pants down. The man opened his mouth to say something, but instead-_

_"Jesus! Stop him!!!"_

Clark jolted awake, the sound of police alarms breaking through his dreaming.

"Fuck," Clark muttered, going to rub his face but finding his left arm trapped and dead asleep, his head snapped over and immediately he paled.

Bruce was laying on his arm, on his side, facing Clark. Clark's head immediately snapped down, pulling the sheets down to make sure he was dressed and the dream was just that. Just a dream. He still had his shirt and sweatpants on, but the dream had definitely… affected him. The police sirens broke through his thoughts again and Clark groaned, knowing he would have to wake Bruce so he could go deal with that. He sighed, starting to pull his arm out from under the man, who mumbled something, but otherwise stayed asleep, surprisingly. 

Clark got out of the bed, whushing around and pulling on his supersuit, leaving the curtains and door shut to keep the room as dark as possible. He left quietly, slipping out the window and shooting into the air, locating the source of the police sirens. There were about forty police cars, which meant the entirety of Metropolis' police force, surrounding the highschool. Clark landed beside one officer, who nearly screamed in shock. Clark gave her a deadpan look, not in the mood, since he had just been woken up, and woken up from a fairly enjoyable dream at that.

"Superman!" She cried, almost in relief.

"Yeah, duh, what's happening?" Clark grumbled, his voice still rough from sleep.

"There's an armed shooter inside! At least five injured, and possibly one killed, we were waiting for SWAT," she explained. 

Clark just nodded, walking past the cop car and dashing up to the door in the blink of the eye, thinking to himself that nine am was too early for this shit. It only took him two minutes to find the shooter, the school alarms blaring in the background really starting to piss him off. When he found the teen, he was trying to force his way into a classroom, screaming something about making them pay.

"Alright, Son, time for you to put that gun down and come with me," Clark said, motioning at the AR in the boys hand.

He looked up in shock, gaping at Superman. "You… you!"

"Yeah me," Clark said, rolling his eyes, he slowly started walking towards the boy, hands extended. "Let me have it, okay?"

The boy, stupidly, raised the AR and started blasting off shots at Clark. He just sighed and stood there, letting them bounce off before walking closer, grabbing the gun in a burst of speed and breaking it in half.

The boy staggered back, staring at Superman like he was some kind of monster.

"Come on, kid, give up."

Clark heard a door click behind him and didn't even need to look back to know that someone had stepped out of their classroom to watch. The boy singled in on the person, yanking a handgun of some kind out and aiming it, he was pulling the trigger when Clark rushed forwards, body slamming him and throwing him backwards, the bullet firing uselessly into the ceiling. The kid flew nearly twenty feet, flipping a few times and landing on his side. Clark glanced back to see a few kids watching him in shock.

"I'm not… I can't go to prison."

Clark looked back, seeing the boy holding the gun to his forehead.

"No, don't. That's not the answer," Clark said, taking a step forwards.

He saw the finger tightening around the trigger and darted forwards. But he wasn't able to clear the distance quite in time. The shot rang through the cement hallway, and the boy slumped over, someone screamed. Clark stopped short, feeling his throat tighten as he looked at the now dead boy.

He passed SWAT in the hallway, they skidded to a stop, watching as Superman walked down the hallway. He didn't stop, just kept walking, pushing the doors open with his hip. The police all watched in silence as Clark walked down the steps of the school, stopping about twenty feet from the police cruisers. He crouched down, gently laying the body of the dead boy down, closing his unseeing eyes. He straightened, walking away.

"It's safe now," he said to the first police officer he passed.

He kept walking until he was a few blocks from his apartment and only then did he take to the air, flying up high enough not to be recognized and dropping down onto the fire escape. The apartment was still dark and Clark could hear Bruce still breathing softly, which meant he was either asleep or just not getting out of bed yet. With a sigh, Clark started a pot of coffee and then slipped into the bedroom, needing to take a shower. Bruce was still asleep, his lips parted slightly, the tie somehow still around his eyes.

Clark grabbed a pair of boxers and sweatpants and stepped into the bathroom, pulling off his suit and rinsing blood out of it, cursing as he realized the fabric was gonna need a little more care than just some water. He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run down his back as he stared at the floor. He knew that he wasn't always gonna be able to save everyone. That was a lesson he had learned pretty early, but this time… it was just a kid. And Clark couldn't do anything.

He took his shower in a bit of a daze, not really registering everything he was doing, just knowing that he washed his hair and the sweat from his body. He stepped out after about twenty minutes and dried off, pulling on his boxers and sweatpants before brushing his teeth. When he stepped out of the bathroom, barely remembering to turn the light off first, Bruce had rolled onto his back, he turned his head at the sound of the door opening.

"Clark?"

"Hey."

"Did you…. Did you leave?"

"Yeah, there was…… there was a school shooting I had to stop," Clark said, grabbing his phone and texting Lois to say he was taking the day off, and then texting the boss.

"Oh."

"How's your head?"

"It's better, a lot better, I can still feel part of a migraine, but it's not as bad as it was," Bruce said.

Clark sat on the bed, watching Bruce as he slid the eyemask off, keeping his eyes closed for a few seconds before opening them and looking at Clark, his blue eyes blinking at him.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked immediately.

"What?"

"You are terrible at hiding emotions. Something happened at that school."

"Yeah…." Clark sighed, adjusting so he was facing Bruce better. "The shooter…. He was a kid… a junior maybe, couldn't have been more then 16. He shot himself and I couldn't stop him, I just had to watch."

"We can't always save everyone, Clark. You know that."

"I know… but he was just a kid, Bruce."

Bruce gave Clark a sad smile, holding his hand out, and Clark accepted it, staring at him slightly. Bruce just tugged on him until the man scooted closer, and from there, Bruce hugged him. Bruce Wayne. Initiating a hug. Clark, pleasantly surprised, hugged him back, head against Bruce's.

"Do you have to go to work?"

"No, I called in."

"Good." Bruce started laying back, pulling Clark with him until they were laying down, adjusting until they were comfortable, Bruce's back to Clark's chest.

"Are you…." Clark started then stopped, losing his nerve.

Bruce let out a questioning hum, his eyes closed as he chased away the remainder of his migraine, his hand on Clark's arm.

"Are you really comfortable with this?" Clark forced himself to ask, surprised once again by Bruce initiating the cuddling, not that he was complaining.

His attraction to Bruce was painfully obvious after that dream.

"Yeah. I don't really know why. But I am," Bruce said with a shrug.

"Well I'm not complaining."

"I noticed."

Clark decided not to question what that meant. They laid there for a long time, Clark almost dozing off again, his shit morning making him want to just restart the day.

"Hey, Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't have my phone with me, can I use yours to call Alfred?"

"Yeah." Clark let go of Bruce, turning and grabbing his phone, unlocking it before giving it to Bruce, who sat up, finding the phone app and using it to dial the Manor.

He sat there for a minute before Alfred picked up.

"Hey, Alfred, it's me…. Yeah I probably won't be in until this evening….. yeah that would be appreciated….. I trust your lying ability." Bruce laughed. "Thank you, Alfred."

Bruce hung up the phone, handing it back to Clark, who twisted around to put it on the beside table. Bruce laid back down next to Clark, facing him, looking up at Clark. He stared back, forbidding his mind from pulling up memories of the dream.

_I wonder if his lips really feel like that._

Clark's eyes shot to Bruce's lips and then winced, noticing Bruce's eyebrow go up.

"Honestly, Clark, let me brush my teeth first," Bruce joked.

Clark's heart jumped, Bruce was smirking at him.

"Don't do that," Clark said softly.

"Do what?" Bruce said, almost sounding confused.

"Tease me like that," the words barely slipped out of him.

Bruce's mouth opened and closed, definitely looking confused.

"I'm…."

"Don't say things like that when you don't mean them."

"How do you know I don't mean them?" Bruce asked defensively.

"Because you're you, and I'm me. You're billionaire Bruce Wayne and I'm just Clark Kent, a reporter for the Daily Bugle."

"Who has won two Pulitzer Prizes." Bruce added. "Honestly Clark, is it so hard to believe that I'm actually capable of human emotion? Don't answer that, I don't want to know."

Clark swallowed, staring at Bruce, who sat up with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Okay."

Clark watched Bruce walk into the bathroom, and then rolled onto his back, sighing in exasperation. What the hell was happening. After five minutes of listening to the shower run, he decided that Bruce probably wouldn't take that much longer and that he decidedly did not want to be here when he got out. He set out a clean set of clothes for Bruce before pulling a t-shirt on and walking out of the room, going to the kitchen and starting to cook some eggs and hash browns, throwing a pan of bacon into the oven to cook. He stood in front of the stove, stirring the scrambled eggs and drinking his coffee, his mind drifting to the article he had to finish.

"God that smells good," Bruce's voice said, Clark didn't glance back, pointing to a cabinet and soon he saw Bruce in his peripheral, pulling a mug out.

Clark felt his mouth go dry, his breath catching. He turned his head to watch Bruce pouring himself a cup of coffee, just to confirm what it was he thought he saw. Bruce was wearing one of his flannels. It was unbuttoned and underneath he wasn't wearing another shirt. Clark snapped his head back forwards to his eggs, quickly finishing them and turning off the heat and putting them on the back burner, focusing on the hash browns.

Bruce sat down at Clark's table, watching Clark cook while sipping his coffee. He had no phone so he had nothing to distract him, leaving him with only the option of watching Clark. He had intentionally dug through Clark's drawers to find the flannel, knowing it was one of his favorites. It had also been an intentional choice not to button it. He had noticed Clark's recent behavior, and how he had responded to Bruce's comment this morning….. Bruce, similarly to Clark had an attraction to Clark, only he had realized it longer ago, it very easy to file away and put it to the side, emotions irrelevant and unnecessary in his line of work.

Clark finished breakfast shortly, plating two servings and setting a plate in front of Bruce before going back to get his coffee. He sat down, beginning to eat in silence. Bruce noticed this with a smug satisfaction, he also noticed the occasional glance up to Bruce's obviously bare chest and the scars maring the pale skin. Bruce just ate like normal, not doing anything else to provoke Clark.

"Thank you for breakfast! It was amazing," Bruce said, truthfully, smiling at Clark, who glanced up.

"You're welcome," Clark answered, smiling back.

After they finished eating, Clark cleaned up the dishes and then told Bruce he had to go start laundry, gathering a bunch and taking it to the basement to start it in the washer. When he came back up, Bruce was sat on the sofa, watching the tv, Clark kicked off his shoes and walked over, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off. Bruce's eyebrow shot up, Clark turned to him and grabbed him by the flannel and pulling him up.

"God, I really hope I haven't been reading things wrong."

Clark didn't even get to lean towards Bruce, the man stepped into Clark, pressing his lips to Clark's. The kiss lasted less than five seconds, but it still sent Clark's mind reeling.

"You weren't," Bruce whispered, eyes scanning Clark's, waiting for an answer, a reaction.

"Bruce…." Clark started, but gave up all hope of civilized conversation, smashing his lips against Bruce's.

The second kiss was hot and passionate, Bruce's hands digging to Clark's messy hair, not letting the man escape. Clark slipped off the flannel, throwing it somewhere, he didn't care to worry about where as his hands went to Bruce's ass, keeping them close together. The kisses turned short and sloppy, Bruce using his teeth to further get a rise out of Clark, not that it was necessary. Clark felt a slight stinging as Bruce pulled on his hair as he pulled out of the kiss, effectively exposing Clark's neck which he started covering with kisses and small love bites. Nothing that would leave a mark, but would feel damn good in the moment.

"God, Bruce," Clark gasped out, his fingernails running down Bruce's back, which earned him another nip to his neck.

"Why didn't you say something sooner," Bruce murmured, kissing Clark's jaw and releasing his grip on the man's hair.

"I didn't…. I didn't know just how attracted to you I was," Clark responded, staring at the blue eyed man. "And I never in a million years thought you would feel the same way."

Bruce let out a low chuckle, his thumb swiping over Clark's jaw. "Well I do love to surprise you, Kent."

"Jesus, you really knew what you were doing, putting that thing on," Clark muttered, pointing at the flannel.

"Yes, it was a calculated decision. I had a feeling there was only so much you could take before you snapped, and I was sure that would give you the extra push."

Clark sighed, pulling away and flopping down on the sofa, looking at Bruce with a smug half grin.

"What?" Bruce asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"I do believe I was just seduced by Billionaire Bruce Wayne."

Bruce shook his head, but stepped closer, straddling Clark. "I do believe I just seduced Superman, not that it was hard. He was already having dreams about me."

Clark felt himself flush. "How did you…"

"You talk in your sleep," Bruce said with a smug look, gently patting Clark's cheek.

Clark stumbled to save himself but stopped when Bruce leaned in, his mouth next to Clark's ear.

"You'll have to tell me about it sometime. What did your dream version of me do to please you so much that had you moaning my name?"

If Clark had been embarrassed before, that was even worse, causing him to go scarlet, Bruce smirked in satisfaction, rocking his hips to grind into Clark, who squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling, his hands going to Bruce's hips, his lips parting slightly as he inhaled sharply. Bruce repeated the movement, his arms around Clark's neck. There was a five second pause as Bruce didn't quite get the reaction he had wanted, so instead he shifted back, palming Clark, that got a shocked gasp, Clark's eyes snapping open to stare at Bruce with wide eyes.

"Bruce-"

Bruce slid back, off Clark's lap, now kneeling on the floor in front of the man.

"What do you say, Clark?" Bruce practically purred, forcing his body in between Clark's knees. "You wanna have a good time? Because I wanna hear you moaning my name, and know that I'm actually the one causing it.

Clark swallowed, but found himself nodded, because that sounded like exactly what he wanted.

"Good. Come here." Bruce pulled on Clark's legs until the man scooted forwards more off the sofa. 

Five minutes after the best blowjob Clark had ever been given, they were cuddled up together on the sofa, tv playing in the background but nothing important on, Clark was laying on Bruce's chest, Bruce playing with his hair.

"Okay, but we should really go on a date."

"Clark, we've known each other for years, is a first date really necessary?"

"Yeah. It is. Because it's important to me."

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, we can plan a first date sometime then."

Clark smiled in satisfaction of his victory, letting his eyes close.

"Wait don't your kids hate me?"

"My kids don't hate you, Clark. And if they did, why is that any of your concern? I don't like half the people any of them have dated, and I had valid reasons. They sure ignored me."

Clark went silent, letting Bruce return to playing with his hair. They laid there for a while before deciding to get up and go out for a late lunch, forcing Bruce to actually put on a proper shirt, though he still pulled Clark's flannel on over that. Lunch was nice and simple, just some sandwiches from a local deli and they sat outside to eat it, discussing the case they had been working the previous night. 

At about 8pm, they changed back into their super persona's, heading back to where Bruce had parked the Batwing, as he needed to head home and patrol there with Robin. They found the building he had landed on and Clark flew them up, setting down next to it.

"So I'll see you around then."

"I suppose so," Batman said with a smirk, hitting a button on his glove to open the Batwing.

Clark followed him over to it, Bruce turned to him, sticking a hand out.

"I'll give you a call, sometime," Bruce promised.

Clark rolled his eyes, but grabbed Bruce's hand firmly, pulling him close, Bruce shook his head at the man slightly.

"Now, Superman, don't you think the public will catch on if Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent start dating at the same time as Superman and Batman? Your stupid glasses don't hide too much."

"You know, I don't think I'll mind too much if they do."

"Trust me, you will."

But Bruce gave Clark what he wanted, kissing the man briefly before pulling away and walking towards the Batwing.

"Goodbye, Supes!" He called, waving over his shoulder.

"Bye, Bats."

Superman watched as the jet like aircraft shot off into the sky, smiling to himself as he turned and flew off to save the world.


End file.
